deathpixie | NanoWriMo 2009

Inspiration from my roommate, [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com], making the most of a bad circumstance today.

"You look pissed," Jack's co-worker remarked as Jack stomped in, face dark.

"Lost my wallet yesterday," he explained. "Lost my keycard, credit card, travel pass, driver's licence... the lot. I've just been at the bank getting everything replaced."

Carol grimaced. "Ugh, that sucks. Did you lose much money?"

"That's the only bright spot in this whole thing. I only had ten bucks in it. So yeah, if someone picked it up, they didn't get much at least."

"Well, that was lucky."

***

As he walked into the foyer of his condo, the elevator doors were just beginning to close. "Hold the door!" he called out, making a dash for it. Inside he recognised the woman who lived four doors down from him. He couldn't remember her name - it started with a B, or possibly a D - but they knew each other enough to nod at each other as they passed each other in the hall.

She heard him - her head jerked up, she met his eyes. And then she reached out and pressed the button that closed the door.

Jack blinked. "Bitch," he muttered under his breath.

***

Saturday night was pizza night. He hit the autodial on his phone for his local delivery place. "Um, hi. Large pepperoni, delivered, thanks."

"Of course. Your address?"

Jack paused. He called every week. Didn't they have that thing where they could get his address from the phone number? Must be someone new. "2234 Western. Apartment 204."

***

Keying into the gym as usual, he was stopped by the girl at reception. "I'm sorry, are you a guest of Mr. Marshall's?"

"'Guest'?" The girl was new - he hadn't seen her there before.

"Well, the photo, it doesn't match." She blushed. "Perhaps it's just a glitch with the computer. Go on in."

"So much for the computer age, huh?" he joked, thinking nothing more of it.

***

The following Monday, he headed to work as usual.

"'Morning, Chuck," he said, waving to the security guard at the desk. The man blinked at him, face stony.

"Excuse me, sir. All visitors need to sign in before going in."

"'Visitors?' What the hell? You know me, Chuck. Jack Marshall. I've been working here for three years." He paused and forced a chuckle. "You're having me on, right? Practical joke?"

Chuck's face remained stony. "I don't make jokes, sir. I know Jack Marshall. You aren't him."

Jack stared at him, mouth open. "I'll... I'll come back later," he mumbled and walked back out.

***

"HMG Limited, Carol Walsh speaking."

"Carol? It's me, Jack."

Despite himself, Jack held his breath, clutching the cell phone in a sweaty hand. The incident with Chuck had unsettled him more than he'd realised.

"Hi, Jack. What's up?"

Jack sagged with relief. Thank god. Chuck's just had a stroke or something. Everything's fine. Then Carol continued, before he could reply.

"I didn't recognise the number you were using. Lose your phone again?"

Jack's mouth went dry. "N-no. It's my regular cell phone..." The same phone he'd used to call Carol a hundred times. She knew the number better than he did.

"So, are we still on for lunch?"

"Lunch?"

"The meal that comes between breakfast and dinner, silly. We made plans this morning. Are you okay? Your voice sounds different."

"This morning?" Jack's mouth went dry. He hadn't gone into work. What the fuck was happening? "Ah, sure, we're still on. I've... got to go."

He hung up without another word.

***

He did what everyone does when they're in trouble. He went home. Not the condo, but a small house in the suburbs. Nothing remarkable, the house itself neatly maintained and the garden bright with spring flowers.

"There's no place like home," he murmured to himself, letting himself in. "Ma? Dad? You home?"

His mother bustled in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "I thought I heard..." She stopped, face turning white. "How did you get in?"

"Ma, it's me." Jack stepped forward, speading his hands wide. "Jack. Your son?" He hadn't meant it to be a question, but it slipped out all the same.

"Carter!" she called, voice wavering. "Call the police! There's a strange man here saying he's Jack!"

"Ma, don't..." Jack stepped forward again and she backed up, tripping over the rug. She landed with a sharp cry.

"Evelyn?" Footsteps thudded down the stairs and his father appeared, the phone handset in one hand and a baseball bat in the other. "You! Get the hell away from my wife!"

"Dad..." Jack's mind was spinning. None of this made sense. Somehow he'd lost his life and he didn't even understand how. "Please. It's me. I'm your son."

"You get out of my house right now!" his father replied, brandishing the bat. "The cops are coming and if you know what's good for you, you'll be gone."

"Dad." Jack's voice choked off. He looked from his father, angry and protective, to his mother, frightened and hurt. "I'm sorry," he managed and turned and fled.

***

Things got hazy after that. He went back to the condo, but he couldn't get in - the locks had been changed. His debit card and his credit card were both frozen. It wasn't like he could go to the police, report a theft - Hello, officer, I'd like to report a stolen life... - but he had nowhere to go. No friends, no family. At a loss, he sat himself down on a bench not far from a shopping strip where, once upon a time, he'd gone for Chinese. Perhaps he'd come up with something.

A woman's laugh caught his attention. He knew that laugh. Carol. He looked up and caught sight of her leaving the Chinese restaurant. She looked radiant and happy, a woman on a sucessful date. "Come on, Jack," she called over her shoulder. "We'll be late for the show!"

"Almost forgot my wallet," came the reply. A man came out - wearing Jack's favourite suit, the tie Carol had given him last birthday - and slipped his arm through hers.

"You'll forget your head one of these days," she teased him, laughing. "You definitely have it now? The tickets are in there."

He held up a tan and black wallet, the same wallet Jack had lost days ago. "Right here, Carol. I wouldn't dream of losing this. My whole life's in here."

Her reply was lost in the roaring in Jack's ears and he stood numbly, watching them go. Helpless. Lost.

My whole life's in here.